


Otherwise

by Erisette



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Team as Family, world's tryingest dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:02:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erisette/pseuds/Erisette
Summary: "Every year you've been alive is a year I could have been a better person."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have fallen face-first into critical role and I love Scanlan SO MUCH. So much y'all. I am terribly, horribly, deeply invested in this pint-sized disaster with his strange warm heart and his odd hard-earned wisdom and his incredible talent of taking what comes and rolling with it. I love him, and I love that he is the oldest (if he isn't at LEAST 70 I will eat my hat and I wouldn't be surprised if he's closer to 100 I LOVE GNOMES) and the only thing I have to say against his moments of Dad-ing the other members is that they aren't frequent enough. 
> 
> (title is from the poem by Jane Kenyon, which makes me think of Scanlan when I read it.)

 

 

 

 

"There's a pretty little thing asking for you, 'round the back," Kent said, coming back into the crowded tavern with a resigned look.

"Really! ...asking for me by name?" The halfling nodded and Scanlan almost winced. That was rarely a good sign. Better to dodge that particular bolt entirely.

Would be wisest.

_Unfortunately_ , curiosity was among the greatest and most consistent of his faults, and so off he went. The 'little thing' was pretty enough, all right, all golden hair and big round eyes, and she smiled at him archly as he appeared. "Scanlan Shorthalt, by my life and breath."

"Sybil," he replied, and stood up on his toes a little for a quick kiss on her cheek. He wasn't the settling kind, and she wasn't the kind to change that, but the troupe had been here almost a week a few years back and he remembered her rather fondly, even though she'd begun to feel a bit like a trip to the stocks at the end there. "You're looking as radiant as ever."

"Your flattery is noted," she said sweetly, before biting her lip. "Is the troupe done for the evening? There's someone I want you to meet." With a sideways, arch look she finished: "You left so _quickly_ last time."

Sybil, he recalled, had gotten terribly attached terribly fast. He'd extricated himself gently enough, but behind her attitude of insouciance he got the distinct impression she was nursing something rather small and hurt. "Certainly!" he said. "Any friend of yours is all right in my books. Just let me tell the gang I'm going out." She responded with a little curtsy, a teasing faux-noble permission, and he swept a bow so deep the feather in his cap brushed the ground as he wobbled backwards towards the door. Her laugh was a bright cackle that blended in to the cacophony inside as he found Doctor Dranzel to tell him he was going out with someone.

"We haven't even been here a day! You work quickly, my friend."

"Actually, it's someone I, ah, _met_ last time we were in town. I think she means to show off a new lover to me."

"Oh ho ho!" Dranzel's grayish face was split by a giant fanged smile. " _Well_. Do you intend to win her back, then? If there's to be a duel, let us know in time to sell tickets!"

Scanlan scoffed, pulling himself on to the table top to get in range to punch the half-orc in the shoulder. "Please, you know me, Doctor. I like leaving satisfied customers more than broken hearts: I'll be jealous and downhearted and let her have her fun."

"And then find someone else to console you, eh?" Dranzel offered his powerful arm, let Scanlan grab hold, and lowered the gnome to the ground.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Scanlan dusted off his sleeves. "...but on a totally unrelated note, don't expect me back until morning." Dranzel guffawed, and sent Scanlan on his way with a friendly slap on the back that nearly drove him to his knees.

 

It wasn't a long walk and he filled it easily with a tale that was only a little bit tall. Her destination was a modestly-sized home (that probably seemed small to a human or elf) with a trade-sign out front. "So you did get apprenticed," he said, "And to a seamstress, no less! That's fantastic." Sybil preened a little, and he kept his amusement to himself. She was older than him, he recalled, by 5 or 10 years, but so sheltered she made him feel like a wizened sage in comparison.

"I have a room downstairs. See the door there? Go on down and I'll fetch Kaylie." She gestured him on with another little half-curtsy, then promptly dropped 'company manners' as she went in the main door bellowing "AUNTIE NEECY! I'm back!"

It was a rare location where Scanlan couldn't make himself at home and Sybil's quarters were no exception. Most gnomes are neither secretive or subdued, and he poked around the place thoroughly, cheerfully nosy in a way Sybil almost certainly would have expected. Nonetheless, out of habit--the habit of someone who spent a lot of his time in non-Gnomish company--when he heard the door begin to open he abandoned his nosing and scrambled to stand in the center of the room, hands folded behind his back and face as innocent as a kitten's. Sybil came in, face alight and arms full of....

oh shit

...oh...

... _SHIT_....

 

 

 

Heredity works differently for gnomes than for most of the other races, where things like features and colors tend to run in families. In contrast to Sybil's china-fairness the baby had golden-brown skin and hair, and there was nothing of Scanlan's up-tilted eyes or deep dimples in the serious round face. Still. He knew whose she was straight away.

"Meet your daughter: I call her Kaylie." Her voice went very soft and loving as she spoke to the babe. "This is your papa, Kaylie. Like I told you."

"Hello, Kaylie," Scanlan said. "It's so wonderful to meet you."

Sybil deposited her in his arms unceremoniously and he staggered a moment, almost fumbling the small warm weight before he adjusted. The baby--Kaylie--studied him, almost cross-eyed from the closeness, and reached up a little paw to touch his long bangs. "She's a solemn little thing," Sybil said, gloatingly. "So clever, aren't you, my mouse?"

"A strong grip too," Scanlan agreed, and sat down in the rug...not at all because his knees could no longer support him. "Did I see a cistern out the side? I could use something cold to clear my head."

"Oh, certainly." She bent to kiss the baby's head. "Be good for Papa, Kaylie, Mama will be right back."

She left, and Scanlan sat, and Kaylie inspected his rings, and Scanlan thought.

 

Everyone who had met Scanlan could tell you that he embraced trouble and met disaster with a smile. Five or six people had seen that when things got really desperate he tended to become frantic and panicky. There was, however, no one alive who knew that when things truly went to shit--when at the precipice, when on the cusp of death--he got very calm and very cold and so clear-minded that the world around him almost seemed to slow to a halt.

Sybil was gone for about three minutes, and Scanlan worked through 50 years of the future in that time.

Stay here with them? They would hate each other in a year. She would strangle him or he would break her down--no life for them or for a child, either. Take them with? Same problem, or nearly; he'd be easier to live with on the move but for all that she'd eagerly soaked up his tales of his travels he was confident she was the sort to want a home with a hearth and a hot meal at the end of a day.

Take just the child with him?

Kaylie had finished with his jewelry and was determinedly pulling his flute out of his pocket. "Oi," he scolded quietly, and she looked up at him with such a whimsically unrepentant look that he had to swallow hard for a moment. He cupped the back of her head--had there ever _been_ hair so soft?--and let her have the flute.

Take her with him? In the troupe, led by a half-orc, through gigs in taverns and brothels? She was happy right now, glowing with health, in a hand-stitched gown made from colorful scraps of fabric. Sybil was a good woman, full-grown, with a steady job in a quiet village. Scanlan liked to think he had a pretty accurate view of himself. He had many talents, and a number of virtues, but his faults were many and varied. It would be better for everyone if they stayed and he left. Now...to convince Sybil of that fact.

(She might have tried to argue. She never stood a chance.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (...I never update anything this fast but I already had this scribbled out in a spiral-bound notebook sooo...)

 

 

  
It was a tricky bit of work, this part. The whole thing was fiddly magic, really, the kind of by-the-books rote nonsense better suited to ivory tower types than a self-taught dilettante like himself, but at least he'd done it a thousand times.The money (just 50 gold this time, and he was feeling the pinch even so) was transfigured into paper, the paper locked into that form with a drop of an elixir he had to buy from an alchemist in Mistfell (and that one drop was another gold spent), a letter written front and back (5 pages not nearly enough), and the whole lot tucked into an envelope sealed with the tricky bit of work. That used to be simpler, but more expensive: when Kaylie was little it was Sybil who read the letters to her and so Sybil that the sealing spell had to be keyed to. A lock of hair, given to a different alchemist in Westruun, yielded an enchanted bit of sealing wax that kept the papers from tampering by others. Now the letters went directly to Kaylie, and the blood they shared meant he could seal them himself--with a drop of blood and a woefully finicky spell.

It took, thank the gods, with a small flash of purplish arcane energy, and he put the letter away with a hum of satisfaction.

"Ah, just the man I was looking for." The voice was cool and sultry, and came from directly beside his table. Scanlan congratulated himself for only jumping a little bit. The speaker was a very lovely, rather young elven woman dressed in leathers and armed to the teeth. She had a jaunty little cluster of bright feathers tucked behind her ear, and she smiled like someone who had a lot of secrets and thought she was entitled to everyone else's as well. Scanlan liked her immediately.

"I'm sure I don't owe you any money and you don't strike me as the kind to be selling favors, friend elf, so I have no idea why you'd be looking for me in particular...?"

"Half-elven, actually," she said so casually that it was definitely a sore point. "Your name was given to us--my brother and I, that is--as someone who practices the arcane arts."

"I dabble," he allowed. "If it's a scholar you're looking for you're looking in the wrong direction...although my skills are as many as my knowledge is varied."

"It's the varied knowledge we're interested in, actually." She dropped her voice a notch lower, leaning her elbows on the table. He admired the view (which she allowed with an eyeroll). "There is a job posting regarding the retrieval of a sort of relic--"

"I saw it." He rested his cheeks in his hands. "A pretty purse, for anyone who survives to collect it."

"My brother and I are quite good at surviving," she said smugly. "If not for the small matter of being unable to do much with magical devices we could handle it ourselves but..." her shrug was careless. "It's still a nice prize split three ways."

Scanlan considered the slim letter in his pocket, felt his fingers tap on the table in the pattern of a reel. "Alright." He slid off the stool and threw his pack across his back. "Let's meet this brother of yours, then, and we'll see what we shall see."

The brother came in the form of a nearly identical person, slightly taller and in leathers slightly darker, leaning against a skinny adolescent bear. The bear was very nearly a dealbreaker but the twins gave off such an air of seasoned confidence mixed with youth--they were working _so hard_ at being cool!--that he wasn't able to resist the lure of seeing them in action. Who knew? It might even be a bit of fun.

(It was actually a great deal of fun, despite Vax'ildan almost dying at least twice. The money was nothing to laugh off either. And Kaylie had been talking so hopefully in the last letter about saving up enough money to eventually attend the college of the White Duke....)

 

***

 

'Just one job' turned, of course, into two, and then ten, and then a year later Scanlan found that he was spending more time with the twins than apart. It could have sent him running, the way Doctor Dranzel's troupe had gone from a comfort to a cage...and he supposed it might yet go that way, but for now? He worried about Kaylie at _least_  a dozen times a day, and she was safe with her mother in a quiet town. To part from the twins? When Vax still leaped feet-first into whatever fresh peril his bleeding heart sought out? When Vex carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and was only just starting to no longer shrink in on herself at the slightest hint of authoritative bearing from him?

He wouldn't get a wink of sleep, and while he hardly needed beauty sleep he liked to get some all the same.

They had seen him writing the letters, of course, over the length of that year, and had poked at him mercilessly when they realized he was writing to the same woman every time. "You gone all sentimental on someone, Shorthalt?" Vex had teased, and Scanlan had congratulated himself on successfully concealing what a fucking soft touch he was these days. "I don't know what you're talking about," he had replied, looking down his nose at her--which took some doing. "I am a true romantic."

They mocked him frequently, as much as he taunted and prodded them, and it was good. The trio (four if you counted the bear, which Scanlan was reluctant to do) was aimless today, no job to do with a potential for gold at the end of it, no equipment to buy, no deals to close, and the nothing town they were stopped at was maybe four hours of travel from a something town--for Scanlan, at least. "I'll be back tomorrow," he told them, interrupting a little sibling spat that had erupted over the choice of lodgings for the night. "I've got a bit of business to do in Kymal."

"Your special lady friend?" Vax asked, faux-casual.

"How--what do you mean?" He said, his voice gone a bit shrill. "How do you--always poking in my business, you asshole--"

"You really must introduce us sometime, darling," Vex interjected.

"Over my decaying corpse," he told them sweetly, before actually thinking about it. There were a dozen factors to consider, not the least of which was that the trouble they could get in without his supervision, and not the most of which was that the sneaky bastards might well follow him anyway. He about sprained his brain trying to consider all the angles, before throwing consideration to the wind and going--as he usually did--with his gut. Trinket had flopped down on his belly, and Scanlan walked up the oversize idiot's back leg to stand on his rump. The bear snorted but didn't otherwise react to the slight weight, and he was now almost eye-to-eye with the twins. He planted his fists on his hips and looked them over; they straightened and looked challengingly back. "Oh, alright, you've beaten me down, you can come along."

"I don't know, Shorty," Vax said, ostentatiously drawing a dagger and balancing it on a fingertip. "Wouldn't we make a bad impression?"

"Fuck that," he said to the non-looks on their faces. "You're obnoxiously tall little shits, sure, but you're also fucking good kids, and honestly probably better people than the likes of me usually gets for friends. Kaylie's not blind: she knows a good thing when she sees it."

"Oh, shut up, you bull-shitter," Vex said, wearing the smile she got sometimes that took up half her face. Vax said nothing, now apparently entirely removed from the conversation--which meant he was overfull of emotions, the sentimentalist. Scanlan walked up the brown-furred back and sat in the spot right behind the bear's powerful shoulders. He looked expectantly at Vex, who bent over to cradle Trinket's muzzle in her hands and croon, "And Trinket will make the BEST first impression, won't you, buddyyy?" He made a grumbly besotted sound in response, and Vex kissed him and straightened. "Right back on the horse then, brother."

"Great," Vax drawled, but remounted without further protest.


	3. Chapter 3

  
Scanlan felt himself start to fidget as they neared Kymal, shifting restlessly on Trinket's back as he settled and resettled his pack. Vex noticed--of course: she was far too perceptive for his tastes--but restricted herself to a wink rather than calling attention to it. He silently resolved to take her side in the next absurd spat between her and Vax.

There wasn't really an 'outskirts' of the town the way there would be in a big city; just a rather abrupt eruption of buildings in the center of farmland. The twins dismounted, Vax leading the horse and Vex dropping back casually beside her bear. "But truly, though, Trinket won't cause a problem?" He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a friendly hail from a nearby window.

"Ho, Master Shorthalt!" The half-elves twitched, and Vax's hand went stealthily to a dagger, but Scanlan merely grinned up at the speaker and stood up to bow in greeting. (Trinket's back was so broad that as long as he was standing still, balance was no problem)

"Mistress Oldhouse! Good day to you!" Oldhouse, a round dark-skinned human woman, rested floury hands on the window edge and gave him a friendly once-over.

"Well, that's a mount as strange as any I've seen. Come to see young Kaylie, eh? And rightly so--it's been more than a year, by my reckoning!"

"You know me, Madam--the world calls and Scanlan Shorthalt must answer! But as long as my girl is here I can't stay away for good." He blew her a kiss, which she mimed swatting away, and resumed his lordly seat. "Would she be at home then, do you know?"

"This time of the evening? She's probably headed there from The Mastiff. Plays there most afternoons, you know--almost as good as you, I imagine!"

"Of course she is," he said delightedly. "You are a saint, Oldhouse! Save a cherry pie for me."

"Never," she replied, and with a friendly nod at the twins ducked back into the building.

"You're a local celebrity, it seems," Vax said. Scanlan shrugged elaborately, spreading his arms in a way that showed off the gold lining of his capelet to best effect.

"They are a simple but insightful bunch, what can I say. They know a good thing when they encounter it." He leaned forward and said in Trinket's round furry ear: "Come on, Trink, mush, I have a rendezvous to make." Trinket moved...though not without a look at Vex to demonstrate that he took orders only from her.

He knew Kymal as well as any town in Tal'Dorei, and was able to cut through alleys and streets to where they probably need to be. The place was hardly a beehive of activity, but they did pass several people, some of whom called out greetings; until one small figure came into view, a street away, and Scanlan raised his voice. " _Oi!_ Shorthalt!" His voice was loud and unmistakable, and the figure froze and turned. He scrambled down from the bear and started towards her--slowly at first, before abandoning restraint and bolting as fast as his legs could carry him. She broke into a run as well, and they met in the middle with a thump. She was taller than him, he noticed immediately with a shock of dismayed joy, and the arms that closed around him were thin but powerful.

"Father! When did you--"

"It's been an eternity, kiddo, I--"

"--can't believe--"

"--incredible, really how--"

Their mutual babble trailed off, and neither of them were tearing up but it might have possibly been a near thing. Kaylie looked up and to the side, her clever dark eyes sharp. "And who are these, Father? Your half-elven mercenary friends, or have you joined another troupe?" The twins approached, and he saw the word 'father' hit them and resigned himself to never hearing the end of it. Ever. Or, you know, until they parted ways.

"As if! These poor souls couldn't carry a tune in a bucket."

"Careful, shorty," Vax said, and Vex elbowed him and gave Kaylie her most charming smile and extended a long callused hand.

"It's an honor to meet you, Kaylie. We've heard so much about you."

Kaylie snorted explosively as she took the hand. "Lies. You'd think this one fancied himself a green dragon, for all he tries to keep secrets." She also offered Vax a handshake, and he acceded. "Still, you're here, and that means something. If you're a friend to him then you're a friend to me--although he _is_ an idiot."

"Oi!" Scanlan protested cheerfully, but pulled her back tight to his side and kissed the top of her head--which required pulling it down a bit. She was so tall! And so beautiful! She'd hacked off all her lovely hair, but the short cut suited her very well and it made her look quite grown-up, which probably made her happy. "You're gonna blow my cover with these guys."

"That ship has sailed, darling," Vex said, and rested her hand on Trinket's head, scratching lightly at the back of his skull.

"I am offended," he sniffed, and pulled back from Kaylie with one last squeeze. There was a faint metal-on-metal noise from her, and he noticed for the first time the fine rapier at her belt. Female gnomes, generally being small and pretty and living among the other races, tended to all carry some sort of blade: he'd given Kaylie his mother's knife, a small but well-made and wickedly sharp blade, when she was five years old and able to understand the care of it. He'd known she was learning the sword for some time now, but actually seeing the weapon gave him the same mix of pride and horror that seeing her height had. That smile, however, was just the same. He beamed back at her helplessly. "Well, half-pint, should we accompany you back home? Will your mother be there?"

"Not today--she'd gone to Westrunn this week, for more textiles for the business."

"Oh, that's too bad," Scanlan said, and meant it. He and Sybil had very little in common apart from Kaylie, but that connection was a powerful one and he would always be grateful to her for the best thing in his life. "Should we go on? You don't mind my friends coming along, do you?"

"We really could find another way to amuse ourselves," Vex put in. "We did sort of invite ourselves along--we've seen him writing to you, you see, and were desperately curious."

"You must have hundreds of letters at home," Vax added, sounding just a little bit strangely wistful.

Scanlan waved a hand dismissively. "No, no, the letters have to be disenchanted, of course, for Kaylie to get her pocket money. They're only meant to be read once!"

"Naturally," Kaylie said, and shoved him gently away. "You and your friend--Vax'ildan, isn't it?--should take your mounts to the stable. Go to Charlie's--he won't object to the non-horse, as long as it's well-behaved."

"Trinket will be just a little angel, won't you, buddy?" Vex said, and Trinket whuffed. "Good boy!"

"That's done then," said Kaylie briskly. "I'll take Vex'ahlia back home, and you gentlemen can join us once the beasties are settled."

"The seconds will seem like hours until we are reunited," Scanlan said, and she cackled an 'Oh, fuck off,' and went, sweeping Vex up behind her. "Best do as she says, kiddos," he said to the twin's slightly overwhelmed faces, "there'll be no dealing with her if we don't."

"Fucking right," she sang out, and they parted ways.

 


	4. Chapter 4

  
Kaylie was just as good at talking as her father, Vex decided. The walk to the house was ably filled with conversation and commentary, information on their surroundings and interested inquiries about Vex herself; she was so occupied with keeping up that their arrival took her rather by surprise. "It's nothing much, but it's home," Kaylie said as they went through the threshold.

"That's no small thing. Your home is lovely, dear."

"Thanks. It's Mother who's to thank for that, really, I don't have much of an eye for that sort of thing." She made for the hearth, which had a scattering of worn but colorful cushions in front of it, and sat down gracelessly in the center. "So!" she said brightly. "Father hasn't told you _shit_ about me, has he?"

Vex found herself laughing despite herself as she sat down, and she thought that even though they didn't look at all alike, the family resemblance was unmistakable. "Not as such, no." The cushions were comfortable, and she sat on one and pulled another into her lap. "It's clear how much he loves you, though."

"Well, yeah," Kaylie said, rolling her eyes. "He has no sense of proportion." She looked Vex over appraisingly. Vex returned the favor: the Gnome girl looked about the same age as Vex (which made Scanlan _how_ old now?), well-dressed and rakish, with a faint pale scar just leading into her hairline. Kaylie let her have her look and then put a finger to her lips and scooted over to the hearth. Vex watched in interest as she worked a little gnome-finger-sized stone loose and then dragged aside a big flat piece. A dark empty space was revealed, and Kaylie reached in and pulled out a bundle of papers. She rustled them until Vex reached out to take them, then reached in and pulled out more...and more...and more...the reach for the last bundle involved her squeezing in until almost her whole torso was in the hearth.

Vex teased loose a single sheet of paper and looked over a page close-written with chicken scratch. "Are these...?"

"Letters," Kaylie said smugly, "From a sentimental old bastard."

Vex carefully returned the page to the bundle, smoothed it out and set it gently on the floor. "I thought he said they disappeared when you disenchanted them?"

"We copy them." Kaylie straightened a pile and gave it a little pat. "Mother did at first, when I was little--the ones with good handwriting are her. Then I took over." She gave the letters another small stroke, then started re-storing them in the stonework. Vex helped, handing her one after the other until there was no sign they were ever there.

"Kaylie--" Vex stopped, not sure how to word it. "Why would you--I mean, not that I'm not honored--"

"Father writes about you," she interrupted.

"Ah, well...I had assumed. You did seem to know our names."

"It's not the norm, you know." Her gaze was direct, candid. Not a familiar look at all; perhaps she got it from her mother. "He can get along with almost anybody, when he chooses; likes people, really, for the most part. But the way he's stuck with you is...not that." She paused, as if waiting for a reply, but Vex had none for her. "He has no idea I have his letters," she finally continued, "because it never occurred to him that I might want to keep them. Even though I bet he keeps all of mine."

"He keeps them pretty secret," Vex said, "But yes, I think he does."

"He doesn't think much of himself." Vex might have made a face. Kaylie laughed. "I know that sounds like bullshit--Desna knows he doesn't lack for self-confidence--but I think in his heart, he thinks that he's a decorative bit of fluff, all flash and no substance. He likes being shiny, don't get me wrong--he's not putting on a _show_ of light-heartedness--but he doesn't value himself enough. Do you understand?"

"I think I do," Vex said quietly. The cushion in her lap had a fringe, and she was methodically running each string through her fingers, light testing strokes like a bow string. "He does what he's good at, likes them, even, but doesn't find those things particularly...worthy."

"Exactly!" She shuffled closer on her knees, earnestly looking up into Vex's face. "He knows he matters to me, knows I love him, and I made him promise that he would do his best to always come home to me. But...I worry. That he might think going out in a way worthy of a song would be a better gift to me."

"Well, that's horseshit."

Kaylie nodded decisively at her. "Fucking right it is. So. Knowing these things, and knowing my father-- _loving_ my father--don't even try to deny it! He wouldn't care about you two the way he does if there wasn't something of great value there, and if you didn't love him I would be very doubtful as to your rumored brains."

"He certainly does...grow on you."

"That he does. So. I'm trusting you, okay, Vex'ahlia? To keep him in one piece to come back to me. And bring you and the brother with. Alright? We can work on the rest together. Do we have a deal?"

They both started as Scanlan and Vax came through the door at the top of the stairs, bickering with great energy and no heat. Kaylie started to pull her hand back, and Vex caught it in both of hers and squeezed it once. 'Deal', she mouthed, and winked as she rose to her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea what i'm doing fam if this is incoherent nonsense i apologize


	5. interlude pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _'Let men walk straight or let them err,_  
>  He never leaves them as they were.  
> While ladies draw their stockings on  
> The ladies they were are up and gone.  
> I pen my lines, I finish, I scan them,  
> I'm not the poet who began them.  
> Each moment Time, the lord of changers  
> Stuffs our skins with ephemeral strangers.  
> Good heavens, how remote from me  
> The billion people I used to be!' 
> 
> -from 'Time Marches On', Ogden Nash

 

 

Scanlan stood arms wide in front of the door and sang out, "Knock!" It echoed around the surrounding courtyard gloriously, and not a moment later the door opened on the lady of the house.

"Hullo, Scanlan," said Sybil warmly. "Where are those elves of yours, then? I understood this was to be a group to-do."

"Out causing mischief. What about our girl?"

Sybil's bright eyes looked to the side, unconvincingly innocent. "Oh...you know. She's around somewhere, I'm sure."

Before Scanlan could even hope to reply, he was cut off by a raucous war cry as a solid form with sharp elbows dove off the edge of the roof and tackled him straight to the ground. " _Shit_!" he tried to yelp, but the breath was driven straight from him, and he saw stars as he hit the dirt.

"Sorry," said the sweetest most unrepentant voice in the world, and he felt the warm rush of a Healing Word take away the ringing ache to his head. He still didn't know which end was up, but he wriggled to the side enough to get his arms around Kaylie as he finally had enough breath to laugh.

"You're worse than the bear," he said, and clung to her for a moment. She hugged back, and let him have his moment before squirming loose and springing to her feet.

"So!" She cried. "Where are the twins? What are we doing? Mother's been sneaking around making preparations for ages, but when I ask what for she just says it's a Winter's Crest secret and that I should go bother someone else."

" _You,_ bother people?" he said with a scandalized expression, folding his hands over his heart. " _My_ songbird? Impossible!"

Kaylie tucked her hands behind her back and rocked up and down on her toes, looking incredibly smug. "I've taken up the bagpipes, you see. Sometimes I'll swing by the tavern and play till people pay me to go away." Scanlan was so proud he nearly wept, and she rolled her eyes at him and pretended to punch him in the chest. "So? Where are my little buddies, then?"

"Ah yes." He swept his arm out behind him and proclaimed. "A Winter's Crest challenge, for the jewel in the Shorthalt crown! Three trials, from us three vagabonds, one each for the three previous Winter's Crests we have shared. The prize? A _sur_ -prize! Something grand enough to be worthy of the trouble you'll take to get it. The time? This instant! Run grab the bags your mother has packed and we'll be off."

Kaylie's mouth had started to drop open during the monologue, and now it snapped shut and she blinked back and forth at both her parents. "But...what about Mother?"

"I've had many and many a Crest with you, mouse," Sybil said, pinching her cheek. "I've friends to drink with and presents to unwrap. I will be well." With a quick practiced movement, she grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and turned her to face the door. "In you get. Time's wasting!" She gave a swat to her rear end, and with a jubilant shout Kaylie darted in to grab the supplies.

" _You sneaky bastards have been planning this!_ " she shouted from inside, and Scanlan and Sybil both laughed.

"You'll truly be fine?" Scanlan asked, stepping a little closer and kissing her offered cheek.

"Don't you worry about me, Scanlan Shorthalt," she said, and smiled gently at him. "I'll be right as rain. They all have to grow up sometime, don't they?"

"But so _fast_ ," he moaned.

**

She made it until they were _almost_  out of Kymal before she finally burst with curiosity. "Seriously, Father, what's going on? Where are they, and where are we going and what--"

He cast mage hand to cover her mouth and she glared at him, though not without a light in her eyes. "The challenger: Veh'ahlia. The challengee: well, duh it's you. The challenge: in the wild plains between the fair hamlet of Kymal and the Silvercut bridge, to find one half-elf and one oversize bear." She ducked out from under the hand and shouted:

"It you do that announcing business one more time...!"

"This should be easy!" he blithely continued, "It's mostly flat grassy stuff between here and there, so they should stick out like elves at a gnome family reunion."

She gave him a stink-eye. "Father. Have you MET the twins?"

"Well, I mean, Vax can disappear more completely than someone who can't cast Invisibility should be able to, but Vex'ahlia is mostly good at shooting things with arrows and talking circles around anyone who isn't a Shorthalt or her twin."

"Oh." Kaylie leaned against him briefly, petting his arm. "You poor, poor gnome. Already going senile. Don't worry: we young ones will take care of you in your twilight years, never fear. Now shut up and find me a mole or something to interrogate."

Scanlan bit his thumbnail and thought. Both Kaylie and himself could communicate with small beasts, a legacy passed down from his mother and all the forest-dwelling gnomes before her, but 'communicate' could sometimes be a little...generous of a term. "I hate talking to moles. All they care about is finding insects to eat and digging holes."

"But what if Vex and Trink are dug in somewhere? You said it yourself: if they're just out and about on the plain they'll be visible clear to Westruun. A mole would notice that for sure!"

"Your logic is inescapable. But _technically_ this is a challenge for you, not me."

Kaylie rolled her eyes. "I'm supposed to use the resources at my disposal; that includes you. Now get critter-hunting, if it takes too long to find her Vex will mock me forever."

 

In actuality, it took them four hours, one chipmunk, two lizard-y things, a starling, and a whole colony of moles to find their quarry. Even then they practically had to trip over them; Vex had somehow pulled together bits of plants and debris over a shallow indentation and was comfortably curled up on top of Trinket, sound asleep. Scanlan and Kaylie just looked down at them for a moment, arms akimbo, before Kaylie said loudly: "I won, but I still feel like I'm being insulted right now." Vex twitched and blinked awake, shedding grass as she sat up and stretched luxuriantly.

"Sorry, darling. It means Trinket trusts you, or else he would have woken up."

"Which means _you_ trust _us_ or else _you_ would have gotten up, riiiight?" Scanlan wheedled.

"Validate him," Kaylie hissed, "He is a delicate fucking flower."

"Of course I trust you." Vex smiled at him, only kind of condescendingly, then beamed wider at Kaylie. "Well, come get your gift, then."

With a crow of triumph she fell on the offered bundle, unwrapping the rough covering to reveal tanned hide. Her eyes lit up as she looked the gift over. "Is this...?"

"Leather armor," Vex said proudly, and started to show off the various elements, some dyed dark red. "See, here, _this_ goes over like _this_ , when you don't mind everyone seeing you wearing armor...these can go under your sleeves like this, a bit warm at times but you can keep them rather hidden...and this bit buckles here and _here_ , see the little straps? You can tuck away a thousand gold, if you pack it right, the little pouch here--" the pouch was beautifully made and intricately decorated in Kaylie's reds, Scanlan's purples, and the twins' blue and gold.

"Vex," Kaylie said softly, knuckling away a tear. "This is..." she trailed off and leaned forward to hug the half-elf as tightly as she could.

"Oh, really, darling." Vex hugged her back, looking to Scanlan for help. "Really, it's the least I can do. And it's not like I made it by hand--Trinket and I hunted the deer, but we commissioned the making of it from a leather-worker...."

"Nothing wrong with going to an expert." Scanlan shrugged and sat with his back against Trinket's massive side; the bear whuffed but didn't otherwise respond. "What do you think, girls? On some more, or camp for the night?"

Kaylie hugged the armor to herself and shrugged. "We could go on at least as far as past the bridge, couldn't we? Where's Vax then?"

Vex's smile went wicked. "Oh, he'll turn up some time."

Both gnomes peered at her closely. Scanlan sighed, as hard as he could, and Kaylie started to don the armor. "Never mind," she said, "I'd like some sleep, please. Clearly I'm gonna need it."


	6. Interlude, pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Happy Thanksgiving! I'm grateful for my family, and hope you are able to enjoy yours, whatever form it takes._

 

 

  
Scanlan was enjoying a nice, slow awakening, sleeping on the ground but very comfortable with the reassuring knowledge that Kaylie was not two feet away and nothing would be able to get to her before he or Vex or Trinket. His enjoyment was cut short as a smothering weight of copper-smelling fur was dumped on his chest, and he came sputtering to full alertness. "Come on, old man, chop chop," Vax said, far far too chipper for o-dark-thirty.

"What did--VEX!" It was a brace of rabbits, gutted and beheaded but otherwise in full furry form, and he hastily shoved the bundle away before too much blood could besmirch his clothes. "What do you expect me to do with these?"

"I caught them: you can cook them. That's how it works."

"I only do _chicken_ ," he complained, and Kaylie came over scrubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Bloody hells. I hope we didn't talk to any of these little guys earlier." Vex looked confused, and Scanlan flapped a hand at them both.

"No, no, we couldn't find any. Shy little things." He gingerly picked up one of the rabbits: there wasn't any sign of an arrow wound on it--on any of them, really. Little show-off had probably shot them all through the heads. "I'll cook them," he announced, "But I make no promises that you'll like it!"

(They did, for all they were stingy in their praise. As if he'd let his girls go hungry!)

 

The advantage of not having much in the way of a camp was that it was easy to pack up: after their breakfast they were ready to go in a trice. Kaylie claimed the best seat on Trinket, because of course she did. Scanlan clambered up behind her, with a comment on the lack of respect for their elders around these parts, and hugged her to him much harder than was strictly necessary. "I can't breathe, Papa," Kaylie said flatly, and he held her tighter in retaliation.

"Breath control is incredibly important for a flutist, practice is good for you."

Once they had decided that Vax was unlikely to leap out of the brittle winter grasses at them any moment, Kaylie started grilling Vex about how they might better find someone hidden in the wilderness: Vex, who had never really internalized an awareness that Kaylie was older than her, explained in detail with saint-like patience even as the questions grew more and more obscure. Scanlan tolerated it with, he was sure, equally saint-ish endurance, until about an hour in when the discussion turned to fewmets. "I'm gonna have to veto a continuance of this lesson, ladies. Much as I _do_ love a good talk about shit...."

"When you put it that way," Kaylie muttered, and Vex shrugged.

"What do you propose we do instead?"

Scanlan answered by throwing back his head and belting the first line of a rather rowdy song; not one that he'd written, but one that he had lengthened and, ah, 'improved'.

"In mixed company, father??" Kaylie cried, trying for 'scandalized' but mostly sounding delighted.

Vex snickered. "He's seen me in my cups, and _you_ are _his_ child." Still singing, Scanlan snagged the edge of her cloak to drag her closer and mussed her hair vigorously--knowing how much the sight would annoy Vax when they eventually found him. Vex, no doubt knowing the same thing, allowed it and dryly said, "Thanks."

Kaylie, who had to now be feeling it as his hand prodded her side, said, "You know he won't let us relax until we join in." Scanlan paused his poking to gently pinch her cheek before resuming with still greater vigor. Kaylie slapped at the hand, but nonetheless did start singing along. Her voice was glorious, warm and rich, deeper than most gnome girls'. She also made threatening gestures to Vex, who rolled her eyes so hard he almost feared for their health before joining in. (She didn't have the advantage of having a bard as a father--actually, all Scanlan knew about the twins' father was that he rather hated him--but she could hold a tune quite well...far better than poor tone-deaf Vax.)

 

It was three more hours to Westruun, and the only reason they didn't sing the whole way there was that there was an abrupt intermission as Kaylie got it into her head that Vex needed to learn the lyrics in the original Gnomish. "You are good at languages," was her argument, "But mostly you just learn languages spoken by your enemies...wouldn't it be nicer to learn something that will let you speak to us?"

"You're not teaching me to speak to you, you're teaching me to sing an insulting song about elves."

"All the better~" Kaylie wheedled, and Vex gave in.

Westruun itself was as busy as ever--busier, what with the festival ongoing. Scanlan found himself grateful for the bear, since he granted them a little island of clear space even in the middle of a busy thoroughfare. Vex stopped, in the middle of that little clear space, and gestured at Kaylie. "Here's your second challenge, dear: find my brother in the midst of all this."

Kaylie's eyes widened, then narrowed to slim daggers. "No."

"Yes," Vex replied smugly.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" She held a hand over her eyes and exaggeratedly peered around them. "In this mess? He's taught me a lot, but this is bullshit!"

"That's why it's a _challenge_ ," Scanlan put in.

"You-- _ooooh_." Kaylie thought deeply, nibbling at first one then both thumbnails. "Right," she decided: "All I can do is analyze what I know of Vax and of the city and figure out where he is likely to hide; then Vex can help me actually find him, since she's much more observant than I am."

"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Vex asked Scanlan, who shrugged.

"I'll pull something on Vax, first time I get a chance," Kaylie said. Vex looked tempted. "AND, I happen to be rather tight with a fletcher in Kymal: I can get you a shit-ton of arrows for a very good deal."

"Sounds fair," Vex and Scanlan chorused.

 

It took several hours, but they finally found the spot where Vex swore she could see Vax: unfortunately, the location in question was a half-built skeleton of a building, and the little shit had no doubt hidden himself in the highest rafter. "I don't know if that's safe for you to climb, Kaylie-mouse," Scanlan said with concern, and she laughed at him.

"Oh, I'm not climbing it, Father." So saying, she planted herself at the base of the construction, cupped her hands around her mouth and bellowed, "OI! I FOUND YOU! GET YOUR SKINNY ASS DOWN HERE AND GIVE ME MY PRESENT!!" Her voice was much louder than she should have been able to make it; there was magic in it, in a way that reminded Scanlan of her increasingly successful experiments with arcane ventriloquism, and he exercised considerable willpower in order to not gush about how proud her was of her.

His willpower was therefore already expended, and so he couldn't stop himself from yelping and leaping a half-foot in the air when Vax appeared from thin air in front of them. Which delighted all the kids, of course--little shits. "You should be politer to your elders!" he squeaked, and they laughed at him.

"How much older, exactly?" Vax asked, and Scanlan ignored him. He then turned back to Kaylie and beamed at her. "Well done, shorty. You've earned it." He withdrew something from under his cloak and lobbed at Kaylie, who caught it with only a minor fumble: the gift was a dagger, no doubt rather tiny for Vax but as long as Kaylie's forearm. Its sheath was dyed to match Kaylie's new armor, and there was a silly pink bow tied around the hilt.

"Vax," Kaylie said, touched. She started to say something else, but in the end just threw herself into his arms and hugged as much of him as she could reach. "Thank you."

Vax cleared his throat and hugged her back, and Scanlan kept his amusement to himself, privately certain that the reason Vax had worked so hard to improve his sneaking abilities was so that he could hide his oversize squashy easily-bruised heart. Instead he followed her example and attached himself to Vex, scrambling up to sit on her shoulders. She complained the whole time, even as she helped him get settled in a way that didn't tug on her hair or interfere with her bow. "Why me? You should stay with Trinket! You're _heavy_ , you fuck."

"You're a wuss. Now scoot, it's my turn to be challenging."

"You're always challenging," Vax butted in, while helping Kaylie up on his own shoulders. "And gods, sister, your hair is a _disaster_."

 

Scanlan's challenge took place on the outskirts of the bramblewood side of town. There was an unassuming-looking building, with a bracket for a trade-sign out front that was currently empty. The gnomes scrambled down from their perches (or Scanlan scrambled: Kaylie was neatly and courteously set down by Vax) and pushed through the door, which made a bright jingling sound as it jostled a little silver bell above the threshold. No one came to answer the chime however; the building was currently unoccupied. The foyer was empty, and Kaylie looked around with interested eyes.

Scanlan, gesturing for the rest of them wait, disappeared into the back room, and emerged moments later carrying a flute. "The third challenge! I have brought you here today to test you, fruit of my loins."

Vex and Vax both made disgusted faces, while Kaylie laughed at him. "Did you just walk back there, pull your flute out of your pack, and walk back out?"

"Silence, offspring!" He handed her the flute. "Or rather, no silence; music. Let's hear it."

Her eyebrows were climbing higher and higher, but she accepted the flute and put it to her lips. "Hear what?"

"Anything!"

The twins had settled in on the rug at Kaylie's feet, which put Vax at the perfect height to rest his chin on her shoulder. "Play the rude one you wrote to make fun of Scanlan, Sprout." She did, and Scanlan gave all three of them a ceremonious middle finger. He listened to her for a moment, nodding along to the beat: the flute was her best instrument, and she played it beautifully. He went back into the other room, while she was still playing, and reemerged with a dulcimer.

"Alright, kiddo," he interrupted. She finished the phrase before stopping, which made him nod in approval. "Next up. Chop chop." She gave him a narrow look like she was starting to get the idea what he was wanting, but willingly surrendered the flute to instead kneel on the ground with the dulcimer before her. The song this time was lighter, wistful; Scanlan recognized an old, old, gnomish lullaby and listened with his eyes half-closed. He waited out the whole song this time, nodding seriously, before going into the back room once more. This time he came out with a set of bagpipes, which Kaylie greeted with a shout of laughter.

He brought out a dozen instruments over the next hour; Kaylie played them all, some better than others, until he finally plunked himself on the ground in front of her and handed over his shawm. She looked from it to him with raised eyebrows; the poor horn was in terrible shape, showing the many years it had rattled about his pack and the handful of bar-fights it had been involved in; he shrugged unrepentantly. "Gotta learn how to play something that isn't shiny and new, half-pint. Let's hear it."

She made a valiant effort, and indeed produced the start of the same rude song she'd begun with intelligibly enough. However, just a handful of notes in the instrument produced a horrible squeaking sound that had her cutting herself off with a flush. "Sorry," she said.

He shook his head slowly, doing his best to look sorrowful. "Ah, Kaylie, still you have a lot to learn." He took the shawm, replaced it in her hands with a envelope of fine heavy parchment. "Good thing you're going to college."

He, Vex, and Vax, all sat back and enjoyed the slowly dawning look of astonishment and joy that came over her face. "Wh--but you--but we---I've been _saving_!"

"What you've saved can be your pocket-money, dear," Vex said, "We've taken care of the tuition."

"But...they...I'm too young!"

"Too young, old enough, potay-to, potah-to. Besides! Most of the instructors are from the tall races, they can't judge gnome ages worth shit."

"I forged you papers," Vax said, looking disgustingly pleased with himself.

Kaylie sat, in the circle of instruments and the three of them--four, if you counted Trinket--and looked overwhelmed. Her lower lip quivered just a bit, and Scanlan, who couldn't stand the sight of tears even if they were happy ones, leaned forward and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he could muster. "You deserve it," he murmured into her ear. "We all think so." Vax joined the embrace next, then Vex, then Trinket leaned against his mother with a happy groan. "Happy Winter's Crest," Scanlan told them all. "Everything is better with you all around. Thank you."

Vax, who never met an emotional moment he didn't either try to escape or sabotage, planted his knees against the ground and levered them into a groaning pile with him on top. Trinket, not to be undone, rested his giant smelly bear-y muzzle on top of them all, and Kaylie bellowed: "Vex! Get your son off us, I've got a lute digging into my ribs."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i could write this rather quick cause i had part of it written long hand already. i think after this there will be maybe 1 or 2 more chapters...i keep thinking about what i could do for the stream-era and not coming up with everything. scanlan may not think much of himself but imo he's already pretty darn good in his time with VM; i don't know what i could write that wouldn't be "same as in the canon, only with a lot less whoring and a little more doting". still! hope y'all like this chapter. :)_

 

 

  
In four years of adventuring, there were any number of allies. It wasn't all swashbuckling and dungeon-crawling, naturally; for months at a stretch they could get by with Vex's hunting and Vax's thieving and Scanlan's performing. Bigger jobs happened when they needed something extra, or when the reward was just too tempting, or when they'd been in one place for too long. Three people (and one bear) wasn't enough for some things. There had been a bandit-clearing incident when they'd worked with a group of five dwarves, an escort mission teaming up with a married pair of halfling wizards to protect the cleric cleansing a haunted ruin, a few other incidents here and there. So the job in Stillben wasn't really out of the ordinary: they were arguing over taking the job in a tavern and drew the attention of a goliath mercenary, and a mismatched trio of two dragonborn and a half-elf.

With this group, however, one job led to another, a dragonborn left and a gnome and a human joined, and before he knew it Scanlan now had eight people to worry about on a daily basis. Somewhere in there he also fell desperately and irrevocably in love, but that was not the issue at hand--namely, the business of trying to wrangle a half-dozen children who thought that they were not children and didn't need wrangling. (He had always been an indifferent student, curious and naturally talented and with good instincts but completely without the wizardly absorption of learning more, better, faster. Finding himself now actively scrambling for better spells, more power, greater range, was kind of invigorating and kind of exhausting.) He considered it a very bad sign that _he_ \--Scanlan Shorthalt, the king of 'jump in and wing it'--was the one who always ended up trying to keep discussions on track and plans consistent.

Not that it ever mattered, really; every plan they ever made went at least half to shit after about ten seconds. Take this one, for example. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend", they had said. "I have contacts, this will go great," Vax said. Lies. All lies.

 

Scanlan wasn't the sort to judge a person by their race. As far as he could tell, most every race had both virtues and flaws a plenty, and he'd had fun with people of all shapes, sizes, colors, and life spans. Right now he was considering making an exception for the Kenku. There was something about the way they moved, jerky darting motions, and especially their voices--masters of imitation, they each spoke with a stolen voice rather than using a unique voice of their own, and the magic in that talent was like and unlike the bardic gifts. Hearing his own voice coming out of that beaked face and saying the things it did gave him such a visceral feeling of shivery unease that he'd had to let someone else take over the negotiations. Vax and Percy stepped up, the former going for "we're all thieves here, pal" and the latter for "I am so very important I am certain you will be thrilled to help me". Less good-warden, bad-warden than criminal-warden, snob-warden.

Negotiations were successful, in that no one was dead or even bleeding (poor Grog would be let down): Percival seemed to have successfully pissed them off, though. _He_ didn't seem to mind--kid had a self-flagellating streak that frankly baffled Scanlan--but it meant that as they were led into the flock's dusty cavern-y home and their 'hosts' shut down Tiberius' attempt to cast light, it didn't seem like a coincidence that human Percy was the only party member completely unable to see in the dark. Goliath Grog and dragonborn Tiberius weren't that much better off, true, though they at least could make it in very low light. Keyleth linked arms with Tibs and Grog snagged the back of Vax's cloak, to take advantage of half-elven darkvision.

"Don't worry, buddy," Scanlan said easily to Percy, and took his outlandishly-large hand in his own much smaller one. "I've got a fine view of the floor here and can be sure you don't trip."

"And I can watch your head!" Pike chimed in, her sweet voice warm as a breath of spring as she claimed the human's other hand.

"Thank you," Percy said, somehow managing to sound both genuinely grateful and as though he were humoring them. Vex, bringing up the rear with the bear, gave the smallest of ungracious snickers.

"It's not even as if these guys' darkvision is that good," Pike said, the softest and most adorable grumble possible under the words. "The two in the front almost bumped into each other just now."

"Wow, you're even better in the dark than I am! Things are really dim for me that far away." He transferred Percy's hand from his own to the top of his head: it rested there like a flat heavy hat (accompanied by a small confused noise from its owner) and with his hands free Scanlan cast his Message cantrip.

"What, no--" Percy hesitated at hearing the strange undertone to his voice, then recognized the spell and finished with confidence: "--no innuendo about your skill in the dark?"

"Gnomes rarely fuck with the lights off," Pike said cheerfully. "But yeah, deep gnomes have really good darkvision. About time my ancestors did something for me!"

"We're like the beginning of a joke. A deep gnome and a forest gnome walk into a cave...."

"What?" Percy's fingers twitched in Scanlan's hair like they were itching to take up his pen and write notes. "But I've read about forest gnomes--I thought they were supposed to be rare and secretive."

Scanlan rolled his eyes so hard he dislodged the human's hand. "Well, I _am_ a rare treasure. With many secrets." Percy made as if to tuck his hand behind his back, but Scanlan reclaimed it. He could only just enclose the first three fingers. Damn tall people and their giant mitts.

"Didn't you ever notice his crazy freckles?" Pike asked. "Or how _short_ he is?"

"Yeah," Scanlan agreed. "I am only just tall enough to rest my weary head on Pike's...holy symbol." Pike gave him a sideways look but mostly looked amused.

I meant no offence," Percy said, becoming a bit more stiff. "I have not had the good fortune to have made more than brief encounters with gnomes before falling in with this...group."

Bless his silly little heart. Scanlan rolled his eyes again but squeezed the hand he held and shook it playfully. "Oh, unclench, de Rolo. Lesson one: most gnomes are quite difficult to offend."

"It takes some doing," Pike concurred. "But it's usually funny when people try--ledge!" She pulled hard on Percy's arm, getting him to lower his head before he brained himself on a low outcropping of stone. He didn't hit his head but got his feet a bit tangled and almost tripped. The kenku ahead laughed--two voices he didn't recognize and Vex's lightest and most false chuckle--and Percy's cheeks darkened with what would be a red flush in light.

"Shit, Perce, you really got on their bad sides. You need to widen your repertoire."

"I beg your pardon?"

The Message spell expired, and Scanlan recast it, swinging Percy's hand in his own as he made the motions. "Your version of negotiation. The whole 'I am a rich asshole and you might as well accede now to shut me up' shtick."

"I feel like I should be offended," he said. A stranger would think the tone inscrutable, but Scanlan heard the amusement in it.

"But you're not! Because you know full well that you're a rich asshole."

"Scanlan," Pike said in the voice of gentle scolding she used on Grog. "Percy's not rich, he gives all his money to Vex."

" _Pike_ ," Percy said, a faint injured whine under the words, and Pike gave his hand a repentant little kiss. (what she _didn't_ do was apologize. Gods, he loved her!)

"I'm not knocking it on _principle_ , mind you. It can be super effective. All I'm saying is, you could use some more weapons in your arsenal. After all, when the only instrument you've got is a fiddle, every piece of music starts to look like a reel."

"It's not like I had lessons in diplomacy," Percy said. "Father and Ju--" he cut himself off like he always did when he slipped up and mentioned his past.

"Never too late to learn," Scanlan said, and followed Pike's example with a kiss to the back of the kid's hand. It got his attention, as he'd hoped it would; he planted another one, this time on the palm, just to be a pain, and was rewarded with a childish noise of indignation. " _I_ never went to school," he boasted, "and look at me now! I could sell dirt to a druid."

"Yeah," Pike crowed. "You can be Scanlan's bullshit apprentice."

"Listen to me, young one," he intoned, "and we'll have you making friends and influencing people like a bard in no time."

"I am honored," Percy said flatly. But his step was a little lighter, and he didn't complain at all when Pike lifted her feet off the ground and dangled heavily from his arm.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _this chapter is dedicated to the 'story of vox machina' pre-stream summary vid, which i watched approx 30 times._

 

 

 

  
They kept sneaking glances at him, throughout the encounter. Well, not Tiberius: he was as ever in his own little draconic world, probably thinking what a nice house this was and what an interesting conversationalist Syldor was. The man could talk, Scanlan gave that to him, and his elven wife was not only the soul of courtesy but seemed genuinely kind as well. For his part, Scanlan spent the whole business feeling about as high on adrenaline as he'd been for the fight with the white dragon. His role in battle was to bolster his friends and harass his foes, and every snide look and veiled remark he misdirected away from the twins felt as vital as distracting a monster trying to make a killing blow. He thought he kept it pretty hidden, although his party clearly caught enough of it, to be giving him those curious looks.

He felt pretty good about how the SHITs had come out of the deal, when they finally emerged from the ambassador's home, and he briskly shook away the tiny crackles of arcane energy that had been building in his tense hands with no way of release. "Well, that was as fucking terrible as I'd always imagined. I can do _something_ to him, you know, guys. I've been reading up on bestowing curses...."

"It's fine, darling," Vex said. Back out under the sky her shoulders were unhunching, although she still crowded close to Trinket. Vax was completely silent, clearly brooding, and might have pulled a disappearing act if Scanlan hadn't scrambled onto his shoulders as soon as they were outside.

"But...but he's your _father_ ," Keyleth said. She had at least picked up on the tension, although she was clearly as ignorant as to its origin as Tiberius.

"If someone looked at my daughter the way that fucker looks at his kids, they would be dead to me," Scanlan said. His voice sounded a little strange to his own ears because it was so serious.

"Kaylie's lucky to have you," Vex said, her words overlapped by Percy and Pike simultaneously saying, "You have a daughter??"

"Oh, yes!" Tiberius said. "When we went to Westruun to find you, Grog, Scanlan went to see her."

"The fuck," Grog said.

" _We_ didn't see her," Keyleth said. "Scanlan was pretty, ah, clear about that."

"As I was _saying_ ," Scanlan said pointedly. "Whether she's lucky to be stuck with me is up for debate, but she is stuck--and so are you. So we're gonna do this, and we're gonna kill it, and then we're gonna dangle it in front of his stupid elf face until he asks for it politely."

(It isn't that simple. Of course.)

 

***

 

 

"Scanlan," Vax announced, "Is going to go completely spare."

"Because we're in jail?"

"He doesn't know we're in a cell," he pointed out. "Just that we're missing. Jail is nothing new--we've broken him out as many times as he has us. But all of us falling off the map like this? Emon may not still be standing when we get back to it."

Pike hummed, tugging steadily at the anchor-point of her chains. "He doesn't much seem like the worrying type." She herself had been in a low-level panic since Grog had fallen with the others through Sir Gregory's basement.

Vax had been bound much more thoroughly than her, and continued trying to work an arm free as he snorted and replied, "He doesn't seem like a lot of things that he is."

"Like a father?" Pike said in a cajoling tone.

Vax, she'd noticed, got a look about him sometimes when the topic was one he didn't want to explore: she didn't know it too terrible well because he usually vanished immediately after it appeared. Currently bound hand and foot and chained by the neck to the wall, he wasn't able to make tracks and instead he just made a non-committal noise, twisting his torso and doing something that made an unpleasant crunching noise.

Pike gave a high annoyed sound. "Come on! How can I _not_ be curious? How old is she? Where does she live? What's her mother like? When did you guys meet? How--"

"We met her about four years ago," Vax interrupted, voice slightly slurred around the small knife in his mouth he was using to go at the ropes. (where had he gotten that??) "So it would have been almost a year after we started working with Scanlan."

" _We've_ been with him a year, now," she said, feeling just a little bit hurt. Vax was clearly making progress, and so she stopped bloodying her wrists trying to get free and instead sat and waited. "It's not that we don't...I mean, he doesn't _have_ to tell us his secrets, of course. It's just...." She sighed and let her chin come to rest on her palm, feeling all at sea. Even when he wasn't present he managed to unbalance her. "Doesn't he trust us?"

"It's not really a matter of trust. He trusts you very much, as much as he admires you. As well he should."

"You're sweet," she said, feeling warm down to her tippy-toes despite the dank environment. Vax had gotten off the ropes and was working on his chain. "And, I mean, I guess I should have guessed something like it? After all he is a 'professional lover of ladies'." Her Scanlan impression was pretty good, if she did say so herself, and Vax snickered. She continued casually, "...and I _have_ seen the way he babies you and Vex when he thinks no one is paying attention." Vax's efforts to unlock his collar paused momentarily, and she hastened to add, "Not that that's a bad thing! Your dad is a big giant jerk, clearly it's a good thing you've got Scanlan taking care of you. As best he can."

"...he's a mess," Vax finally said awkwardly, "But he tries, you know?"

"He _is_ very persistent." To her own ears, her voice was a mix of exasperated, admiring, and affectionate.

Vax's collar clicked off and he was immediately next to her and working on her manacles. "He'd stop in a moment if he thought he was really making you uncomfortable, you know. Truly he would. I know he doesn't...he really likes you, Pickle. He talks a good game, for sure, but the women he, ah, 'keeps company with'...." Her own bindings came apart under his hands and he stood up a little stiffly. "He really, really likes you. That's all."

"Thanks, Vax," she said, feeling a small confused but happy glow in her heart as she reached up and took his hands. Closing her eyes, she focused on that glow and on the ever-present light of her lady, and cast Cure Wounds. When her eyes opened almost all the hurts left by the chimera had closed. "Let's get going, huh? The others will be worried, and Grog doesn't have as much fun beating faces if I'm not there."

Vax had a beautiful smile, when he really meant it, and Pike stored it away like an earned treasure.

(Scanlan made people smile, Pike thought. It might be the best and most underestimated talent that he had. It was important, getting people to smile.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _the last chapter (unless an epilogue appears) and here we are! good luck tonight, vox machina. the dragon won't know what hit it_

 

 

 

Ever since they'd entered Emon, Kaylie had been mentally formulating plans for how to present herself to her father. She was pretty sure he wouldn't be sore about the college thing--she'd long ago had the half-comforting, half-unnerving realization that there was probably nothing she could do that would make him not be proud of her--but he might be hurt, mightn't he? Or Vex might, because she was so money-conscious and really it couldn't have been easy for the three of them to be as extravagant as they'd been towards her over the years. But then of course all the plans came to naught, as they usually did, as she'd learned from her father and from the road but not from any of her professors. The tavern was large and crowded, but it was impossible to miss the giant form that came in the door--Grog, that one would be, larger than she could possibly have pictured. The disturbance made in the crowd was bigger even than one very large man could make, and it was all she could do to keep playing as all of Vox Machina entered the building.

Her father saw her first; Vex was apparently focused on something else, but Scanlan's eyes went straight to her like iron filings drawn to a magnet. She gave him a wink and a smile, as best she could without interrupting her playing, and his entire face lit up with the shining dimpled grin she should have liked to have inherited from him. Grog and the red-head--Keyleth--made straight for the bar, but the rest of the group came up behind Scanlan at the periphery of the crowd to watch the band. Vex and Vax both exclaimed to see her, the later giving a little finger-wiggly-wave; Pike Trickfoot and Percival were looking from her to Scanlan and back again with what looked like dawning realization. There was a low hushed exchange that was cut short by Vax planting his foot on her father's backside and shoving him forward.

Father caught his balance quickly and called up to the Doctor, "Mind if I jump in?"

"It would be an honor," Dranzel boomed, his gruff voice delighted. "Ladies and gentlemen--Scanlan Shorthalt!"

Without missing a beat, Scanlan quickly introduced both himself and the troupe with a brisk showman's patter very similar to the one Dranzel gave at the beginning of every new gig; had he gotten it from her father, or the other way around? Whoever had penned it, it got the desired response, Vox Machina cheering the loudest of all. He bounded up to stand beside her, digging his flute out of his pocket, and she took a moment just to take in the sight of him. He looked the same, really, as he had nine months ago when he came to visit her in Westruun, certainly no older. Then, however, he'd been dressed to the nines in entertainer's silks and jewelry. Clearly he hadn't come to this bar with a night of revelry planned; his colorful clothes were offset by beautiful but scarred leather armor, his jewelry restricted to a few clearly enchanted items. Still, when he put the flute to his lips to play it was the same as ever.

Every time the Shorthalts played together it wasl ike they'd never been apart, and Kaylie rode the adrenaline high of a really good performance that went on and on until she was left gasping for breath and he triumphantly held his note out even longer. He ended with a flourish and the bar erupted in cheers. Kent grabbed his arm and shook it, shouting something into his ear, and Dranzel thumped down from the stage to grab him in a back-threatening hug. Kaylie, laughing at the sight, was caught up in her own embrace as Vax materialized beside them and swept her off her feet. "What the hell are you doing here?" He laughed.

"I was performing, before _you_ fuckers came in and distracted me!" She hugged him back, ruffling the feathers of his strange intricate armor, before he set her back on her feet. "Are you try--"

"KAYLIE!" she was cut off by the Doctor's voice. "Is this true??"

She looked back to see the troupe staring either at her or Scanlan, who was looking pleased as punch. "Yeah, sorry. That one is indeed my father. I wanted to succeed on my own merits!"

"It explains _so much_!" He slapped Scanlan on the back and bowled him entirely over. "Pay up, Plucker, and I'll use my winnings to buy a drink for the best bard in Tal'Dorei."

"It really is wonderful to see you, friend." Scanlan didn't have to shout to make himself heard; he had the gift of projection and his voice somehow cut through the ruckus like a knife. "Are you through with your set? My friends and I are here on another matter, we can leave you be if you're still working."

"Nonsense. Bring them along! A round for everyone, on me. Zedd, Kent, come on, let's make some space." They started moving tables, interrupted briefly with a debate with the bar owner, and Kaylie found herself being hugged by both her father and Vex'ahlia.

"Darling, it feels like it's been forever. What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," she said ruefully. They pulled back and she found herself in the middle of a semicircle of very capable-looking individuals, all looking her over very intently indeed.

"Where are my manners!" Father said, and drew her against his side. "Guys, this is my daughter, Kaylie. Kaylie, these are my friends; you already know the twins, of course. Pike is the very impressive-looking armored cleric; her big friend there is Grog; the absurdly tall human is Percy; and then Keyleth, with the antlers.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance," Percy said formally, and bent to offer her his hand.

"Oh, yes, it's really great to meet you," Pike said, and added in Gnomish, "We've just been dying of curiosity ever since we learned about you."

"I still can't believe you have a fucking kid," Grog said to Scanlan in what was probably meant to be a whisper but wasn't even a little bit quiet.

"We should--" she was interrupted by a call from Dranzel, and continued "--finish this later. They're good guys, the troupe, but if you give them an inch they'll take a mile. Keep an eye on your purses and take everything they say with a grain of salt and they're great."

Father had a knack for getting the best seat at the table, and Kaylie was sharing his chair so she had the best seat as well, with a good view of everyone sitting around the cobbled-together arrangement of tables. For every look at the others, though, she snuck two at her father, still marveling at the differences in his appearance. Even his hair, which she had seen usually gathered in a low queue with long forelocks curling towards his chin, was instead pulled into a rather high ponytail that left nothing hanging in his face. It made the wide strong cheekbones more prominent and completely exposed his jaw, neck, and ears. There was a nasty scar, still reddish, at the juncture of his right shoulder; a stab wound, perhaps, or the wound of a well-aimed arrow. Even his poor ears...they were as long as Kaylie's own, that forest gnome heritage again, and since she was ten they had borne a pair of twisty copper-and-amethyst earrings gifted by she and her mother. There was only one earring from the set, now, and a ragged notch in the ear showing where the other had been torn loose. His voice was the same, and his hands, and his smile.

(she was likely giving a poor impression to Vox Machina, but quiet she stayed, and tucked under his arm like she was still a girl)

 

*** *** ***

 

The rest of the troupe made themselves quite at home in the keep; there was fine wine, and comfortable rooms, and the staff dealt with their antics with the seasoned aplomb of people who had seen it all. Kaylie ate and drank and relaxed with the rest of them, but it took every acting skill she had not to show how anxious she felt. She'd used those same skills to convince her father that she had no problem with him continuing on Vox Machina's 'mission' while she went along with the rest of Dranzel's group to the keep.

When Vox Machina finally returned--triumphant and a little tipsy--she almost completely blew her cover by springing to her feet and hugging him. He hugged back just as fiercely and seemed unharmed, so she pushed him away after a moment and went to hug the twins as well. The rest of her father's family seemed to be bursting with questions, all of which were put on hold as there was a bit of conversation and negotiation with the troupe. Her fellow musicians were politely but firmly escorted to rooms, Dran stopping on the way to ruffle her hair with a hand as big as her head. "Kaylie Shorthalt! What a find. I certainly know how to pick them, don't I?"

"You know it, Doctor," Scanlan said, and endured a hair-ruffle of his own with grace. The door swung shut behind the last of them with a ponderous thud and there was a moment of silence.

"How it is you're _here_?" Vax finally said, coming up behind her and scooping her up into another hug. "It's incredible to see you, of course, but what about college?"

"College was great," she admitted, a bit winded from the embrace, as she was set back on her feet. There were seven pairs of eyes on her and it felt like seven hundred. "I learned a lot. But...I mean..." she scratched at the back of her head, sheepish, then laughed as Trinket came up and put his big black nose against her cheek.

"We're not upset, darling," Vex said, perceptive as always. "I hope you mother wasn't."

"She's just confused," Kaylie sighed, giving Trink a thorough scritching. "But I told her...I learn more from you in a day, Da, than from the professors in a week. I've been on the road with Dran's troupe for six months and I think I've learned more than I did in the whole three years I was in college." They nodded, and they truly didn't seem upset. More cheerful, she continued, "Not that I didn't learn a lot! I'm glad I went, but I'm glad I left too."

"Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart," her father said warmly, then grabbed her teasingly by the ear and gently pulled her out in front of the group. "So! Introductions! Everyone, this is my daughter, Kaylie. Kay-bird--"

"You already did that, Father, and besides I've read so much about you all I feel like I know you already. I know the sneaker and the winker personally of course," she nodded towards Vex and Vax, "--and we also have the Princess, your day-drinker." Keyleth's face did an interesting thing where it didn't seem able to choose an expression. "The holy woman and her familiar, of course." Pike snorted in laughter, while Grog didn't seem to get it; he had claimed one of the half-empty wine bottles and was taking slow meditative pulls from it. "And then we have Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the Third."

"Hurrah!" Vax cheered, and Keyleth collapsed in drunken giggles.

"Pleased to meet you, again," Percival said, with the air of someone who was determined to be the adult in the room. "Keyleth, dear, let's sit down. How about something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," Keyleth mumbled, but consented to be led. Everyone drifted towards the tables, and Scanlan hung back and whispered in Kaylie's ear in Gnomish:

"Kaylie, are you...are you _interested_ in Percy?" She could only imagine the expression she gave him, but it made him hurry to add, "Not that that's a problem! You're a grown woman who knows her own mind! And Percy is a good man, the best. I love him dearly, you know. Only...." he winced and spoke more quietly still, even though no one but Pike and maybe Vex had a chance of overhearing: "He's kind of a complete disaster..?"

She relented, rolling her eyes at him. "Oh, relax, Father, it's not like that. He's very pretty, to be sure, but I'm not into younger men."

"Oh, good!" he cried, spirits restored, and bowed her into a chair as graciously as if she was a queen. Here in Vox Machina's home base there was no need to make do like in a bar: there were chairs for Goliath-sized and Gnome-sized persons alike.

"It really is great to meet you all," she told them. "Truly. My father is overprotective, but he can't help but talk about you in every letter he's sent me for the past three years. He really loves you all."

"Oi, _Kaylie_!" he protested, and she was pleased to see that she'd made the imperturbable Scanlan Shorthalt blush.

"It's not a secret," Keyleth said, looking intensely confused. "He tells us that all the time."

"Why, he's told Pike he loves her at least five times, just today," Vex said, looking too pleased for it to be a lie.

"That is a lot of times," Grod contributed wisely. Pike just smiled and shook her head fondly.

"You're very lucky, Kaylie. Scanlan is a really good person. We're lucky that you share him with us." She looked so earnest as she said it, but her smile turned just a little wicked as Scanlan's blush reached the tip of his ears, and if Kaylie hadn't already loved her from her father's descriptions she would have been lost at once.

"Yes," Kaylie said firmly. "He is."

And no one--not even Scanlan--disagreed.


End file.
